Diary of a Disabled Girl
by Ash-Caro-Lynn
Summary: What if Harry's twin sister had severe brain damage? What if she was restricted to a wheelchair and was hated by most of the student population? What will happen in her second year at Hogwarts? Sequel to Diary of a Forgotten Girl. SECOND IN 'THE FORGOTTEN GIRL' SERIES - READ 'DIARY OF A FORGOTTEN GIRL' FIRST!
1. Wheelchairs and Wilting

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter One : Wheelchairs and Wilting

_Dear Journal, July 31st, 1992_

Well, I've been in this hospital bed for over a month now, and I guess all of those foul potions finally paid off. I gained the ability to move my entire left arm of my own free will, so I just get to record all of the boring stuff that happens to me daily in this here journal.

My voice is still gone from all of the coughing, but I really don't mind. It's not like anybody around here would listen to me, anyways…

Madam Pomfrey is a cruel person… She reminds me of an overprotective mother. I'm sure she means well, but it burns all over when those 'healing potions' are forced down my throat. It's like they're designed to hurt instead of heal. However, if that was so, I wouldn't be able to write, now would I?

It's my birthday… Nobody remembered, as usual. A week ago was the day that the letters are usually sent out, I wonder who was in charge this year?

I'm going to get a wheelchair soon, since now I have the ability to use my left arm, I'm able to write out things I need. For example, if I need a glass of water, I can write it out on paper. Or I could just signal to my throat... I'm considering learning sign language, so I can tell this mediwitch I hate her without the waste of ink. But then again, I doubt anyone here knows sign language...

Life sucks.

-A.V.P.

_Dear Journal, August 14th, 1992_

It's been two weeks since I last wrote, and I plan to keep these updates oddly timed... Today I finally got a wheelchair. It's magic! Pun intended. I just have to use my thoughts as if I were walking. Sure, it's a bit more concentration, but I'd rather be restricted to a wheelchair than be restricted to a bed. Plus, it's not for long. Only a couple of years... I try to make it sound like a short time. Yet it seems so long until I get back on my own two feet.

Wheelchairs aren't that bad. I'm able to sit back and relax instead of having to walk. I understand I'm acting like a couch potato by saying so, but I can't eat too much since I can't 'burn off the calories' quickly... Muggle term, I guess.

Onto other things, I hear this year, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is Gilderoy Lockhart. That explained why almost of the set books, 7 out of 8, were by him. I had to study them, well record the information in my brain and on my hand, and it sounded fake. He's 28, and yet he had completed 8 of these heroic things in 8 years, in all of them he was at least 20. It's odd, I swear I remember William Wellington doing something nearly exactly the same as Lockhart did in 'Wanderings With Werewolves'.

I wish someone would write me, I feel forgotten. Like I did at exactly this time last year... And the year before... And the year before… Well, I guess it's going to become a normal thing for me to be at Hogwarts over the summer and feel forgotten. As well as be bored out of my mind.

I 'accidentally' spilled some ink on my copy of 'The Complete Works of Gilderoy Lockhart', so the large image of the author himself that was on the cover was covered in black ink, making him unable to be spotted amongst the lilac and black cover. I was _so_ mortified.

Not.

Hogwarts is coming up. I hope I won't be treated as horribly as last year.

Pshaw. That was high hoping, even for myself.

I was a traitor to Gryffindor. I was a Mudblood. And the teasing would become worse as it became easier.

One didn't need to be a psychic to see that.

-A.V.P.


	2. Trains and Trouble

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter Two : Trains and Trouble

_Dear Journal, September 1st, 1992_

Looks like my _dear_ friend has managed to stir up trouble… Again.

I was just sitting at the end of the long Gryffindor table, eating, well nibbling on some food, when the Boy-Who-Will-Not-Die managed to come in with a story that would surely make the front cover of the Daily Prophet tomorrow : The barrier between platforms 9 and 10 sealed itself, so he came to school in a flying car, and crashed into the Whomping Willow. I would have, _should have_ believed him, but my grudge against him forced me into thinking he had done it all for the sheer publicity.

How wrong I was.

I couldn't believe they got off without punishment. Their families were written to. That and _nothing else_. It was an outrage, Dumbledore seemed to have had a soft spot for the Boy-Who-Lived ever since I began drifting away from the old coot. Or maybe he was just sucking up, trying to get on a good page to manipulate my brother. I still think he was preparing me, so that he could use me like a tool.

I fear for my brother, even if I hate him. He may be a crazed ditcher, but he's my brother.

-A.V.P.

_Dear Journal, September 2nd, 1992_

The first day of class wasn't bad at all. Some took pity on me, seeing I was restricted to a wheelchair. Note that if I were talking aloud, you could hear the sarcasm dripping from my tone.

The Golden Trio decided to oh-so-kindly help me with my books. Yep. It sure was helpful for Ronald to decide I didn't need my books, and run away with them.

Up to the top of the astronomy tower.

You see, I can't really climb up stairs, so I have to be very careful. I had only a few minutes to get to Transfiguration, and I didn't have my wand - Ron had confiscated that, too - so I was forced to explain why I had showed up to my first class completely unprepared. Of course, McGonagall failed to believe anyone would have done so, and believed I had left my things behind on purpose. Now I get to go to detention at nine in the evening.

My first DADA class was preposterous. After lunch hour, which mainly consisted of gathering my things from the Astronomy Tower and eating my emergency snack, I had to go to Lockhart's class.

There was a quiz… About himself. For Merlin's sake, it was terrible. All it was : questions about his marvelous achievements (insert sarcastic eye roll HERE), his favorite things, and everything was self-centered. So now I had an arrogant teacher for an important class, if I ever did face a Death Eater, I'd be stuck with the Flipendo and Stupefy jinxes, as well as a few other things. The idiot decided it would be best to test us by releasing Cornish Pixies on us… Completely unprepared.

Chaos ensued.

After all of that, the Golden Trio and myself were ditched by the teacher - all other students had left and I couldn't get to the door through the crowd - to clean up the mess. The other three beat me to the door, leaving me alone with the lovely pixies.

Casting a quick Protego, to ensure I wasn't separated from the wheelchair, I eventually managed to catch all of the tiny blue devils and let (force) them into their cage. With a few flicks of my wand, the room was back to normal.

And all of the pictures of the teacher had somehow gained devil horns and rather ridiculous beards. Well, I supposed it was worth it. I hoped I would be able to see Lockhart's horror when he realized how terribly inaccurate the paintings of himself were. I do hope he doesn't have any detentions to monitor, other than my own.

-A.V.P.


	3. Apologies and Arrogance

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter Three : Apologies and Arrogance

_Dear Journal, September 3rd, 1992_

Lockhart hasn't managed to clean off his portraits, so the rather accurate portrayals of him are still there. Fred and George still have that grudge against me, since I sassed Harry way back when, but I've a feeling they know it was me. I wish they'd congratulate me, I miss my old prankery pals.

I wonder, since Harry read my diary, if he'll be kind to me? I'm going to approach him…

Now I'll give you a full recap of that…

I approached him. "Hello, Harry."

He turned around. "Hello, LaFrance."

"Would you stop calling me that?" I asked him. He nodded, and signaled for me to follow him. I did, and he led me to a less populated area.

"Look, erm, Aloe?" he asked me.

"Yes?" I asked him.

"I'm so sorry about how I treated you, I had no idea of what I was doing. Turns out the mirror was driving me mad, and I just refused to realise it. Because it showed my-"

"_Our_," I corrected.

"Right, _our_ parents. I was so cruel to you, and you were only trying to help. I truly am sorry, and thank you for looking out for me."

"I understand, I was awful jerky as well - heh, now I sound like meat. You know, it's funny you said I was just like Malfoy that day… Because he's my friend."

"Well, I can see that happening…" he muttered. "He couldn't take his eyes off of you this morning, you know."

I was shocked. I had expected him to react, yell, even resort to physical violence. But he just took it like I was talking about the weather.

"Well, maybe you might consider… A truce?" I asked him.

"Sure thing," he replied. "You be nice to me and my friends, I'll be nice to you and…"

"Draco," I finished.

"Urg… I really have to be nice to _him_?" he asked.

"Hey, if it weren't for him, I'd be dead. You should at least acknowledge he saved my life, put aside his Slytherin pride for a _Mudblood's _life. You don't have to call him Draco, just at least try and be civil."

And so now we have a truce.

I'm glad.

**A/N : You know the drill, you've read, now you MUST review!**


	4. Jerks and Jokes

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter Four : Jerks and Jokes

_Dear Journal, September 13th, 1992_

Today, Mal- Draco and Harry got into a conversation. And Harry couldn't be rude. Draco didn't know…

"Scarhead," said Draco. "Hanging out with your Mudblood girlfriend again?"

"Take. It. Back," said Harry, glaring and gritting his teeth. I glared at Draco.

"What did you just call me?" I asked him.

"Only what you are," he replied, smirking. "Just some useless Mudblood scum, who is only hanging out with Pothead for the popularity."

I did what any sensible girl would do there.

I slapped him across the face.

If I had had a camera, I would have captured the moment, that look of utter shock was priceless. It was shock, humiliation, pain, a hint of rage, and embarrassment. And I certainly wasn't gentle.

I dragged Harry off shortly afterwards.

"You don't have to even be civil around him, he's a jerk," I told him. He nodded.

"Can't see why he would've saved your life, anyways," he replied.

Shortly after the small fight, Draco approached me.

"Look, Willow, I'm sorry about how I was earlier today," he said, "I was an utter jerk."

"Why?" I asked him. "Why do you choose to put up a cold mask?"

"If my father found out I was standing up for a Mudblood, he would murder me," Draco explained. "And there's a number of sources from which he could garner the data."

"Look, I'm trying to get Harry to be civil around you, but when you're a jerk, it really doesn't help," I told Draco. "And I'm not a Muggleborn."

"You're not?!" asked Draco incredulously.

"I'm a halfblood, stupid bloody prick," I told him, flicking his forehead and storming off.

I guess I hadn't come to terms with his twerpiness.

Harry and I are good friends now, as to Ronald and Hermione, not so much. Hermione's nice, however, reluctant to accept me, I suppose. Ronald's pride is getting in the way, he apparently is too proud to become friends with someone that Harry formerly despised.

I'm curious as to what I'd see in the Mirror of Erised nowadays. I think I might see Dumbledore about it - scratch that. I don't want to hang with him.

Did I mention Harry has been hearing voices? Apparently, they come from the walls. Ron and Hermione seem to think he's going crazy, as Hermione said, 'Even in the wizarding world, hearing voices isn't a good sign.' However, I can't help but hear a slight hiss, and almost a slither in the walls, before he remarks that he's hearing voices. Even with the hum of my wheelchair, the sounds are still prominent. Almost as if… There's a snake. I haven't heard a snake before, though, so I would have no idea…

Apparently, Lockhart's starting up a Duelling Club. Considering he's a fake, I'm not joining… I'll try and get an account of what happens. I hope, one day, we _might_ have an actually _good_ professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, sadly, Voldemort's jinxed the position, Dumbledore will take anything he can get.

Speaking of the arrogant git… I skipped DADA today, instead using it as a study block. Apparently, my absence flew under the radar - of which I'm glad, though I probably would have been in even more trouble had I attended class, for last time I felt the overwhelming urge to throw the stupid book at his head, and I'm positive I would have felt the same this class. After all, he just was reading his book, 'Gadding With Ghouls', aloud.

That professor is honestly a joke. I mean, his adventures in his books are more like children's stories. He doesn't have to load each lesson, chapter and book with crap, crap, and crap, does he?

Hermione seems infatuated with the professor, somewhere I can't stand her. She literally drools during DADA. I'm glad I don't care for my book, otherwise I would have been mortified by the wet spots in my book, though it's a tad bit… Disgusting, I suppose, turning a page that has her DNA on it - a bit like putting my finger in her mouth. Just… Eugh.

-A.V.P.


	5. Creepiness and Coincidences

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Forgotten Girl : Chapter Five : Creepiness and Coincidences

_Dear Journal, October 31st, 1992_

This year's getting creepy already. Sure, last year was scary, but within two weeks, it's gotten creepier than it did in two months last year.

There's been an attack. Mrs. Norris, Filch's evil cat, was found, hanging by her tail from a wall, petrified. She was still as a rock, and the teachers and students reckon it was dark magic that did it. A bit like Medusa. What's even more creepy is what was written on the wall.

Harry, Hermione, Ronald and I had visited Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party instead of going to the Halloween Feast. On the way down to the feast after the party, Harry said he was hearing voices. I insisted we follow the voice, and it led us down to the crime scene.

'_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware_.' It read. And soon after, we were found in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Filch was devastated. He thought his cat was dead. And that we - Harry, Ronald, Hermione and I - were the cat's murderers. Harry came up with a white lie - saying that we were going up to Gryffindor Tower - but our alibi was disproven by the fact that we wouldn't have gone up without dinner, and Ronald's stupid stomach giving a loud rumble. I guess he eats so much, his stomach couldn't handle the starvation. Therefore blowing our cover.

Snape was going on suggesting that we (Harry) should be punished until we told the truth, however, it didn't happen.

In all honesty, I hate that professor. I don't care if he's good at teaching, it's him. The way he hates people just because of our ancestry. However, I think he sorta likes me because I look like my mother - and apparently, they were friends. I suppose it's better than receiving hatred, however, I can't help but feel sorry for those who aren't his favorites, Harry included.

Does something odd manage to happen on every Halloween here? Or is it just a coincidence that we haven't attended a full Halloween feast two years in a row, instead seeing an attack - or at least an attempt at an attack? I guess I'll have to wait until next year to find out if Halloweens are as jinxed as the DADA position.

-A.V.P.

_Dear Journal, November 14th, 1992_

I believe I may have offended Harry today, by suggesting something perfectly logical. However, I'm fairly sure he saw the, well, _logic_ in the advice.

You see, Harry and Ron had gotten into one of their little spats again, and now Ron was ignoring Harry. I confronted my brother after the incident.

"Heya, Harry, how many spats have you and Ronald gotten into this year?" I asked him.

"About six, why?" asked Harry.

"How many spats have you and I gotten into this year?" I asked.

"Under one," answered Harry suspiciously.

"Be honest, I'm not trying at all to sound like I'm being arrogant, but who do you think is the better friend? Me, or Ronald? I won't be offended if you say Ronald."

Harry answered in an instant, "You."

"Think about it," I said. "Ronald and I hate each other. We're both your friends. One day, it may come to extremes, and you may have to pick. Choose wisely."

I think he realised I was trying to say that Ronald was a not-so-good-friend… However, he did still seem rather offended. And that brings me back to my first statement.

Lockhart had his Duelling Club today, and it was apparently more exciting than I thought. Harry and Draco had a duel, and Draco used the Serpensortia charm, curse, or whatever it is. And Harry is a Parselmouth - he talked to the snake. I got a full account from Harry.

"They think I'm the heir of Slithering or someone, and that I was egging the snake on," my rather frazzled brother had explained. "I didn't know it was an unusual gift, I thought it was just part of the whole I'm-a-wizard thing."

"Aha!" I had said. "Salazar Slytherin's heir… But the Sorting Hat would have placed you in Slytherin, then."

"It considered it…" Harry had muttered.

"It considered putting you in Slytherin?" I had asked incredulously. "Ha, well consider that, famous Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, could've been put in Slytherin."

"So could you," he had countered, chuckling.

"Oh, true… But neither you nor I are related to Slytherin," I told him.

"How would you know?" he had asked.

I had conjured up our family tree and traced back to Godric Gryffindor. No Slytherin blood. Maybe, in the corridors, he was actually hearing a snake. But then again - how would a snake get into the wall? And snakes don't go around saying, 'Kill, kill'... Do they?

This school year is shaping into a rather odd one. And I fully intend to find out what's going on.

-A.V.P.


	6. Bludgers and Blood

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter Six : Bludgers and Blood

_Dear Journal, November 20th, 1992_

Quidditch is more important than I thought.

Today was the match against Slytherin. Sadly, I was spectating rather than playing, due to the fact that I'm, well, paralyzed.

I noticed immediately that one of the Bludgers seemed to be attracted to Harry. Literally. It kept on zooming towards him. He seemed to be on an invisible roller coaster, it looked funny, but I couldn't help but feel worried for the kid who seemed to be attracting trouble again - this time literally.

Fred and George were so focused on protecting Harry, they didn't care about the other Bludger. It blocked Angelina from scoring twice. All of the Chasers, as well as Wood, the Keeper, were plagued by the Bludger. Slytherin had gotten six goals before Harry managed to catch the Snitch. Right after the Bludger broke his arm.

I wish I had gotten to him before Lockhart did, he should have gone straight to the Hospital Wing. However, the useless professor managed to _remove_ the bones in his arm, and not mend them. Now, he's being kept overnight in the Hospital Wing.

However, we won the match, and that was still a joyous victory, even if at the cost of Harry's arm bones. At least he's safe in the care of Madam Pomfrey… I now live in mortal fear of Professor Lockhart, if he's enough of a fool to make such a mistake like that happen, then imagine what other mistakes he could cause!

-A.V.P.

_Dear Journal, November 28th, 1992_

Shortly after last year began, I realised how much smarter than Harry I was. However, he has several redeeming qualities that make up for his wisdom - or lack thereof.

He's braver than I, probably friendlier…

Hermione and I are getting along better. We've been doing some study sessions together for a while now, and she's been helping me in Transfiguration, I admit I was amongst some of the worst in the class before her help. And I've been helping her improve in Potions. She wasn't bad in the first place.

Speaking of potions… I'm not sure where Harry, Ronald and Hermione got the idea that Draco was the heir of Slytherin. But they're wasting their time and breaking rules to brew a Polyjuice Potion, so that they can go in disguised as Slytherins to interrogate Draco - Hermione as Millicent Bulstrode, Ronald as Gregory Goyle, and Harry as Vincent Crabbe. They're trying to convince me to go in as Daphne Greengrass, but I have no idea how I'd get any part of her. And plus, I've already traced Draco's family tree, no sign of any Slytherin blood. On Slytherin's family tree, I've traced the Slytherin blood down to the Gaunts, and the Riddles. It's Tom Riddle we should be looking out for, he's the only heir of Slytherin that's still alive. Although, it's confusing, he's like 50 years old, he can't attend Hogwarts… can he? The trio won't listen to my babbling, they seem convinced that Draco is the heir of Slytherin, probably just because they have a grudge against him. And because Tom Riddle is 50.

And he's most definitely not the heir of Slytherin, they seem to have forgotten that Crabbe and Goyle aren't his only friends - in fact, I wouldn't even count them as friends,more so cronies, and plus, Draco never trusts them with any information. They're probably too dimwitted to understand this whole 'heir of Slytherin' thing anyways. Still hooked over on the whole first attack.

Notice how I said first? Justin Finch-Flecthley and Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost, were found petrified. I suppose the ghost would have been dead, but he's a _ghost_. It's Dark Magic for sure. Not Voldemort, I haven't been experiencing any pain, but Dark Magic is at work.

Professor Binns recently told us about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, saying that the monster within would work to rid the school of it's filth. I suppose this meant Muggleborns and half-bloods, considering I'm both, should I be worried? I portray a Muggleborn, I am a half-blood… I suppose Muggleborns are being attacked first. But then again, wouldn't they be killed, and not just petrified?

One thing's for sure. This voice in the wall that Harry is hearing, the snake sounds, and the attacks are all related. For all we know, Harry could be the 'monster'. I'll have to research into creatures that an petrify _and_ kill, and ask some of the ghosts about this creature, if they've heard of it. Something like this must have happened before, there's more than one heir of Slytherin.

-A.V.P.


	7. Gag Gifts and Green Boxers

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter Seven : Gag Gifts and Green Boxers

_Dear Journal, December 14th, 1992_

Christmas is coming up in just over two weeks, and I'm just about set for Christmas presents. I got Hermione a pair of reading glasses, I remember her saying something about either wanting or needing a pair. Ronald, well, same as last year, except this time it's Puddlemere United and not the Chudley Cannons. For your information, it's a poster of the players, and they speak rather high-pitched. Considering I was getting _Ronald_ something, Hermione insisted I should also get his little sister, Ginevra (she goes by Ginny) something. Considering I barely knew her, I simply got her a poster of the Holyhead Harpies, they seem to be her favorite team, as well as a broomstick. Not a StarFire, mind you, but still a rather lavish one.

For my dear brother, I got him a 'Guide to Hearing Voices For the Virtually Insane' as a gag gift. I'll get him something else later… No idea what yet.

And, the twins. Although they may not exactly like me any more, I had to do _something_. So, I was playing around in Potions class, having already handed my potion in, and I brewed a potion up quite by randomness. I snuck it into a cupcake and gave it to an unsuspecting Slytherin victim - Vincent Crabbe. I asked him how he felt, and he said, 'Quite nauseous, actually'. Seeing he told the truth, I asked him if he had a crush, and on whom. He replied, 'I have a crush on Daphne Greengrass'. It seemed to work like Veritaserum, so I pushed him away and strolled off.

This potion, I entitled 'Truth Serum', and successfully made a game of truth or dare, with magically binding rules. I made three sets of this - one for each of the twins, and one for myself, and I'll give the twins each one.

Anybody I'm forgetting? Oh yes, Draco. I got him a pair of silk boxer underpants, dark green lined with silver. I fitted this into a box, along with a small Muggle disposable camera to see the stupid look on his face if he opens it in the Slytherin common room. In this box, I also hid a very Slytherin-esque ring, shaped like a snake and charmed to coil around his finger. It's green, a dark forest green. With black, beetle-like eyes. I thought of him the moment I saw it, so I decided to prank him _and_ gift him. I wonder if he'll actually wear the underpants…?

Disturbing thoughts, disturbing thoughts. I seriously need some soap to wash out my head…

Aha! Found it! 'A Guide to Broom Safety'. Oh, I should probably have some explanation… Harry fell off his broom, and tends to do so a lot, actually. So, I get him this guide, he'll have a good laugh and/or kill me. So now I'm implying that he's virtually insane, and that he can't handle a broom safely. I doubt he'll actually read the books, but hey, if it's all he's got, there's a 9.8% chance of it happening!

I've owl ordered pretty much everything, minus Draco's gift and the twins' gift. They're all due to arrive between the 20th and the 24th… They had better be on time, else I'm not going to be too happy. Sadly, considering I had to use a school owl, they may take longer.

Gag gifts are so much fun, especially when you aren't on the receiving end of them! I do hope I actually get something in return, even if it is a gag gift. Though, considering last year, I'm not sure anyone actually _wants_ to get me a present…

That passage about my cat really is out of place, isn't it? Well, that's pretty much the only news going on, besides the fact that Harry is being stalked. Oh wait. I didn't say much about that… Colin Creevey is this first year Muggleborn in Gryffindor, and he puts actions to the term, 'licking shoes'. I'm sure if Harry told him to shine his shoes with his tongue, Colin would do it. Undoubtedly. I swear he's in love, I mean, always wanting a photo, or a signature, it's almost like the whole Lockhart-Hermione thing! Why is everyone infatuated with famous people older than them?! Seriously, it's just so unrealistic! But then again, so is Hogwarts, pretty much everyone within it… My life is unrealistic as well, I mean, who fractures their skull, has a seizure _and_ is restricted to a wheelchair, in just two days? Only me. It's just so miserable, why does all this misfortune have to be heaped on me? Next thing you know, I'll be petrified! Should I be paranoid?

-A.V.P.


	8. Christmas and Cameras

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter Eight : Christmas and Cameras

I wheeled carefully down the stairs from the dormitory, into the common room. Once there, I cast a jinx on the staircase, very similar to the one I did last year. I then rolled to the Slytherin common room.

"Pure-blood," I murmured, quickly going into the common room, putting down the box for Draco, and leaving.

Once I was back in Gryffindor Tower, I first swapped the tags on my package from Mrs. Weasley with Percy's. Therefore, my sweater would read, 'P', and his would say 'W'. I then awaited the others, sitting by the staircase.

First it was the twins. Of course. They learned from last year, and cast the counter-jinx before coming down and redoing the jinx.

"Mornin'," they chimed.

"Good morning," I replied. "Hey, want some presents?"

"You didn't have to get us anything…" said George.

"We didn't get you anything," said Fred, shuffling from foot to foot.

"Nonetheless, take these," I replied, throwing them the boxes from the compartment in my wheelchair.

Just before they were to open them, Percy came down the stairs, or rather, tumbled. He crashed into the floor, clearly forgetting last year's incident.

"LAFRANCE!" he shouted, rather angrily. I heard some bustling from the dormitories, signalling that the boys were up. Hermione was not the reason, though I had told her she had better wake them up.

"Yes?" I asked, smiling innocently.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Percy.

"Hey, it's not my fault the smartest kid in Gryffindor Tower at the moment fell for the prank of the second smartest kid in Gryffindor Tower at the moment _twice in a row_!" I exclaimed, failing not to laugh at the hilarious and rather stupid look of fury and embarrassment, instead bursting out in chuckles.

"You might want to move," said Fred. Percy looked at him, confused, and was a moment too late as he failed to step out of the way for the other trio.

At least Harry got the joke, he was laughing as he pulled himself out of the heap. "Nice one, Willow."

I bowed. "Thank you very much, oh Golden Boy."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Anyways, a not so merry Christmas already," sighed Percy.

"No, no, no, no, NO! NO. It's April Fool's Day! NOT CHRISTMAS. Bloody hell, do you _read calendars_?! The twins are having their birthday party, that's what all of the presents under the tree are for!" I exclaimed, putting my hand to my face. "You've got it all wrong…"

Percy looked confused.

"She's joking!" said Fred.

"Present time!" exclaimed George. And we went to open our gifts.

From Hermione, I received a book. Wow. A _book_. From _Hermione_. It was entitled 'Merpeople : The Stories and Myths of a Kingdom Under the Sea'. Wait… It was the library book I had loved! I hugged Hermione, handing her the glasses I bought her. She, as well, was overjoyed.

From Harry, I got a broomstick. I rolled my eyes before I opened the package containing the new Nimbus Two Thousand and One, glaring and chuckling at the failed antics of my brother.

"Erm, Harry, if you haven't noticed already, I'm pretty much paralyzed," I explained to my confused brother. "I can't really play Quidditch or mount a broom with all but my arm and face paralyzed."

Harry laughed. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, I appreciate the thoughtfulness," I assured him. "And plus, it's just a few months till I can walk again. Anyways, here's your presents."

He mock-glared at me and went on opening the rest of his presents. I quickly opened the present that should have been for Percy, putting on the oversized sweater.

"Gred, Forge," I said. "She finally got my name right!"

The twins, as usual, had swapped their sweaters.

"We all know you're Pillow, and not Willow!" said Fred.

Percy had, by this time, opened his box. "I think we got ours swapped around, mine has a W on it."

"She got his name right, too?" I asked. "We all know his name is Weirdo, and not Percy."

Fred and George snickered. Percy looked pretty mad. I chuckled.

I got nothing from Ronald or Ginevra, however, I gave them their gifts. They seemed mildly surprised, but nonetheless, took the posters. Ronald was fairly mad, and I'm sure the posters probably met the same fate… Doom. Ginny, on the other hand, was pleased.

I didn't get Percy anything, since he murdered my cat… Yes, it was only third degree murder. But I blame him. He should watch where he puts his books.

After I had finished opening my presents, I murmured 'Accio camera'. Immediately the disposable camera I had planted in the box came right to my hand. I couldn't help but burst out in laughter at the amazingly stupid look on the twat's face. The others looked at me with bewilderment and surprise written on their faces, and I showed them Draco's bewilderment at receiving lingerie for Christmas. Even Percy couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"Wait, how'd you get that photo?" asked Harry.

"Easy. I sent him a pair of silk underpants, forest green and silver, and put a Muggle disposable camera into the box," I explained. "Good prank?"

"Well, duh," chorused the twins.

"What a merry Christmas…" I murmured.


	9. Tomatoes, Torture and a Third Attack

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter Nine : Tomatoes, Torture and a Third Attack

_Dear Journal, January 8th, 1992_

I had finished my potion in Potions class today, so I, as usual, was using my cauldron for other purposes.

"Miss LaFrance!" barked Snape. I looked up.

"Yes, professor?" I asked innocently.

"What potion is this?" he asked.

"Oh, it's not a potion Professor," I replied.

"Then what is it?" he enquired.

"Tomato soup," I replied, smirking and stirring the red soup. He groaned and walked away. I shrunk the cauldron-full of soup, put it in my pocket and left the classroom.

Later today, I met Percy.

"Hello, weirdo, going down to dinner?" I asked him.

"Actually, yes. I'm rather hungry, so if you'll excuse me," he replied, trying to get past me.

"I believe you'd find it much more convenient to eat down here," I told him, enlarging the cauldron from my pocket and pouring it over his head.

"LAFRANCE!" he screeched, but I was already halfway back to Gryffindor Tower.

Me and the twins are better friends, mostly because of my pranks on Percy. I was warmly accepted back into our pranking group, which I have fondly named, 'The Trickster Trio'. They don't really call us that, according to George, we're the Marauders II. I prefer originality, but hey, it works…

Percy gave me a detention… I'm going to have to answer fan mail for Lockhart. AGAIN. I don't want to… But the picture I snapped of the prefect covered in tomato soup was priceless. I showed it to the twins, one of the reasons they've decided to accept me is that photo.

Not looking forward to detention, but looking back on good times.

-A.V.P.

_Dear Journal, January 9th, 1991_

There's been yet another attack.

Colin Creevey was found, petrified. He was holding a camera, but all the film was burned up. Maybe the monster, whatever it is… Burned all this film up?

It would have been useful if he had managed to snap a photo… But this _thing_ is surely intent on not being found out.

I worry about the next attack. What if this time, the person actually dies? I'm doing some research with Hermione in the library right now…

We found it! The Basilisk.

"_Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it."_

Hermione just tore the page out of the book, we had better get this to the boys.


	10. Release and Restrictions

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter Ten : Release and Restrictions

_Dear Journal, January 9th, 1992_

It was horror. I watched as Hermione and the prefect fell to the ground.

Petrified.

I immediately wheeled around, but the monster was gone. There was no proof. It could have even been a Dark Wizard. To cast a spell so powerful, one would most likely be able to do wandless and wordless magic.

Hermione had been looking in the mirror, and Penelope was coming up behind her.

And now, they were Petrified.

I then rolled quickly to the nearest professor. Madam Pince, in the library.

She glared at me.

"Madam Pince!" I cried. "There's been another attack!"

She immediately stopped glaring and followed me into the hall.

"Do you know who did this?" she asked.

"I didn't see, I was just behind them, coming the same way, and I only saw them fall to the floor. They were just looking in the mirror," I explained frantically.

Madam Pince picked up the mirror, and told me, "Find Professor McGonagall. Tell her there's been another attack. The match must be cancelled."

I quickly rolled off to find Professor McGonagall. I found her down at the Quidditch Pitch.

"Professor McGonagall, you have to cancel the match!" I exclaimed. "There's been another attack - a double one!"

She followed me down to where I had left Madam Pince. She quickly took the mirror as I explained what I saw, and went down to the Quidditch Pitch to cancel the match. I went down to Madam Pomfrey to tell her of the girls that would be coming. She quickly prepared two beds for them, and just as she was finishing, Madam Pince arrived, levitating both Hermione and Penelope.

"Dear, dear, dear," muttered Madam Pomfrey, looking the girls over. "Petrified again…"

As she was fussing over Penelope, Professor McGonagall arrived with Harry and Ronald. They looked at Hermione, and only had a few minutes before they were escorted back to the common room. Madam Pomfrey asked me to stay, she needed to look me over, anyways.

She had tested most of my limbs, asking me if I could feel them. After a while, she finally spoke up.

"Take this potion," she said, planting a blue bottle in my hand. I quickly brought it to my mouth, wincing as the pasty blue potion went down my throat. It tasted similar to spinach. Which I truthfully hate.

"What's this do?" I asked Madam Pomfrey.

"It's a Nerve Potion. It heals your nerves, mostly. Helps your central nervous center heal," she explained.

"Why didn't you use this sooner?!" I exclaimed.

"It only works to a certain extent. You have to first heal yourself, until your nerves reach the point at which the potion will work," explained the mediwitch.

"You can be done with that wheelchair. Stand up," she said. She grabbed my hands and pulled me into a standing position. She held on as I gained my balance, getting used to the feeling of being on my own two feet.

It was great.

"There, all fixed. Now, go down to your common room, I don't wish to see you in here for the rest of the year," she demanded. I left the Hospital Wing, quickly going up to Gryffindor Tower. However, along the way, I bumped into something. Actually, a someone.

"Harry?" I whispered, confused as to why he was wandering around under his Invisibility Cloak. He and Ronald pulled off the cloak.

"Heya, Willow," said Harry with a sheepish grin. "Want to come down to Hagrid's with us? We think he might know something about these attacks."

I nodded, and put on my Invisibility Headband that I had almost forgotten about. Putting it on, I followed the other two Gryffindors out to Hagrid's Hut.

"So, Willow, no more wheelchair now?" asked Harry as we exited the castle.

"My days in a mobile chair are over… Hopefully," I replied, smiling.

We got down to Hagrid's hut. However, shortly after we were welcomed in, there was another knock at the door.

Dumbledore and Fudge.

They talked to Hagrid for a moment, before another person came in. None other than the father of Draco Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy.

To make a long story short, he sacked Dumbledore. It's only supposed to be for a few days, and I don't exactly like Dumbledore, but still… The school will collapse without him. I presume McGonagall will take over, but I'm still worried.

What will become of the school without the headmaster? The joy that I'm out of my wheelchair is now overshadowed by Petrification, and the headmaster being sacked… I can't come to appreciate the goodness with all the terrible events overshadowing it…

-A.V.P.


	11. Spiders and Spirits

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter Eleven : Spiders and Spirits

_Dear Journal, January 14th, 1992_

During Herbology, Harry managed to notice a steady stream of spiders making it's way to the Forbidden Forest. So after classes, we waited until everyone in Gryffindor had gone up to their dormitories - which actually wasn't until about midnight - before we pulled out the invisibility appliances and went out to Hagrid's hut to get Fang.

We left the cloak and headband on Hagrid's table, as it's dark in the Forbidden Forest, and went back to the spiders. We followed the tiny black spiders out to even bigger ones. Acromantulas, to be precise.

I've learned something from that experience. I probably won't go into the Forbidden Forest again, for there are giant spiders that will eat me - unless I'm a friend of Hagrids, which, luckily, I am, in which case they will eat me after monologuing.

They tried to eat us. It's a good thing that Ronald's father's car came in and saved the day. You know, the one that Harry and Ron took to school? It drove in just in time. However, the ride was rather uncomfortable, especially considering I was on the outside of the car, and not the inside. Better than being eaten by giant Acromantulas, though.

-A.V.P.

~DIARY ENDS~

~ALOE'S PoV~

"Please, follow me, Willow," begged Ginny.

"Okay, then, where are we going?" I asked as Ginny began pulling me somewhere. She didn't answer.

She, instead, brought me to the girls' bathroom. In specific, Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I watched in fascination in horror as she whispered something in Parselmouth. Then, a sink opened up, revealing a pipe.

"You first," she said.

"You expect me to just go down there without an inkling of what's down there?" I asked her, but she didn't reply, instead pushing me down the pipe. It was dark, slimy, and most certainly not my favorite slide in the world.

I was soon joined by Ginny. No, not Ginny. She had a cloudy look in her eyes, almost as if she was under the Imperius curse. My eyes widened.

What if she was?

"Tom, I brought the Mudblood," she said, spitting in my face as she said it. I saw a boy, no not a boy. It was a ghostlike sixteen year old, with black, curly hair, and a cold look in his onyx eyes.

"Foolish girl!" exclaimed 'Tom'. "This is a halfblood! What do you expect me to do with her?!"

He then muttered a curse in Latin, I didn't exactly hear it, but I certainly had never seen anything of the like before. Ginny fell on the floor as if he had muttered the Petrificus Totalus jinx, she looked almost dead, turning cold. He levitated her over to a shadow, and then looked over at me.

"Well well well, what have we here?" he asked, coming over to me and sizing me up as a predator might his prey. "A nice little halfblood girl, what are you doing in my chamber? You know you shouldn't be here."

"Well, Tom," I replied, spitting the name out like a curse. "Your dear little Ginny brought me here."

"Ah, yes, and your name is?" he asked.

"Willow," I replied firmly, subconsciously clearing my mind. "Willow LaFrance."

Just as I was finishing putting up my weak barrier, I felt it be plowed down. I closed my eyes, but to no avail. He was in my mind.

"Well well well, little Aloe Potter," he said. "You should have died ages ago. Avada Kedavra!"

I ducked the curse, somersaulting away. I needn't have worried, as soon as I had hidden, Harry came into the chamber, distracting 'Tom' from me.

I watched as Harry and 'Tom' had a cross between a conversation and a fight. I wavered in the background as this 'Tom' revealed he wasn't a perfect prefect like he was in his school days…

"Lord Voldemort," I whispered. "Flight from death."

That was when I stepped out. Deciding to anger this spirit a bit more.

"Voldemort?" I asked, approaching the two black-haired boys. "That's French, you know. Smart name, one would think…"

'Tom' grinned. "Means Flight of Death, actually."

"No, no, no. Actually, it means Flight _from_ Death, or Flight _from_ Dying. You clearly didn't go to Beauxbatons," I said, and the grin was replaced by a glare. He raised his wand, no, his hand was empty. Harry had known I was distracting 'Tom'.

"Look Potter, your sister's come in to save the day," said Tom to Harry. "How's it feel to be saved from death by a girl?"

"Well, actually, Tom," spat Harry. "I don't need her to be saved. You know why?"

"Why?" asked Tom.

"I'm Harry Freakin' Potter. You aren't the greatest sorcerer of all time. Dumbledore is. Sorry to break it to you, Tom, but in order to be the greatest, one has to fight for the right cause. Which just so happens to be the light. Not your side," explained Harry. Well, I finally had taught him something. Unless the centaurs taught him that. Scratch that, he probably has never even heard of a centaur.

I was forgotten once more as Tom set his Basilisk on Harry. I didn't look in the giant snake's eyes, but I knew that Harry wouldn't either. Anyone who looked in them would be dead. I silently wished I had brought my camera, this fight, while dangerous, was incredibly awesome.

I winced as the Basilisk's fang pierced through Harry's shoulder. Fawkes was over by me, but I whispered to him to go and help my brother. So the phoenix did.

The Basilisk's fang wasn't in my brother's shoulder any more, but in Riddle's diary. I watched as the memory of Tom Riddle's sixteen year old self faded to nothing. It was a Horcrux, I knew it.

I rushed over to Ginny, who was waking up. Harry was already there, and he looked at me.

"Not my favorite amusement park," he said, and I nodded in agreement.

"You were brilliant," I told my brother, before Ginny started stuttering out her excuse. We left the chamber, where we met up with Ronald, who was equally confused and began stammering questions. I told him we'd explain later, and the phoenix helped us get out of the chamber.

Well, Riddle was dead, no more attacks, monster had been murdered, I have to still congratulate Harry on how well he did. But it surely wasn't the first time that he'd save the Wizarding World, or even just Hogwarts, I knew it. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, who faced Voldemort, three times now, wasn't it?

I decided we should go straight to Professor McGonagall's office, and the other two agreed.

And when we reached the door, Ronald knocked.


	12. Suspension or Success?

**Rewritten as of 03/09/2014**

Diary of a Disabled Girl : Chapter Twelve : Suspension or Success?

It was silent as Harry pushed open the door. Covered in muck, slime, and in Harry's and mine's case, blood, we must have been a sight. In the office were two redhaired adults, who I assumed were Ginny's (and Ron, Fred, George, Percy, Charlie and Bill's) parents, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Dumbledore. I must say, it was the second time I'd wished I had a camera, this time to capture the shock, bewilderment, and other emotions written all over their faces. The woman, who I assumed was Mrs. Weasley, broke the silence, proving her identity by crying, "Ginny!"

As she and the man, Ginny's father, hugged their daughter, I watched. I looked over at Dumbledore, he looked back. His expression was unreadable, I shot him one of apology, and he smiled. He seemed to accept my apology.

Mrs. Weasley also hugged Harry and Ron, enveloping them in a tight embrace and thanking them - specifically Harry - for saving Ginny.

"Might you wish to thank your daughter's other savior?" asked Dumbledore. I honestly had no clue what he was talking about until I was swept off my feet by Mrs. Weasley, experiencing pretty much my first hug.

"How did you do it?!" I could hear her saying.

"I believe we'd all like to hear about that," said Professor McGonagall, and so Harry lapsed into a story that could have come out of a book. From the voices in the wall to the events in the chamber, it was so interesting…

Quickly after Harry explained about the diary, Ginny was taken by her parents to the hospital wing. Next, Professor McGonagall left, leaving myself, Harry, and Ronald.

"Well, children, for some odd reason, I seem to remember warning all of you three that if you broke more school rules, I would have to expel you," began Dumbledore. I sighed, it was the announcement I'd been dreading. "This only goes to show that even the best must eat our words at times," he went on. "You will all receive Special Awards, for Services to the School, and how about 150 points for Gryffindor… Apiece."

I quickly finished the mental math, that was 450 points. "450 points, Professor?"

"Yes, I think that can quite easily be put in order," replied Dumbledore. "Would you excuse us, Mr. Weasley? I'd like a couple of words with these two…"

Ronald immediately left, leaving Harry, Dumbledore and I alone.

"Sit down," said Dumbledore. "I'm sure the two of you have met?

"He knows, Professor," I said. "Harry knows."

"Well, Harry, what was your reaction to learning about your sister?" asked Dumbledore.

"Professor, it is a matter that I wouldn't like to share with you, if you can understand, sir," said Harry. Dumbledore nodded.

I listened in as Harry and Dumbledore discussed him, and shuffled away, barely two paces away from the doorway when I saw another man coming down the corridor. I immediately recognized Lucius Malfoy from that day at Hagrid's hut. I stalked off, hoping he wouldn't notice me. Of course, people tend to see someone sneaking against the wall and trying to avoid them.

"And who are you?" asked the man.

"Willow," I replied, calmly going away. He stepped in my path.

"Willow LaFrance?" he asked. I nodded.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get going," I told him, running off before he could stop me. I rushed up to Gryffindor Tower, babbled out the password, and finally relaxed when I took a seat by the fire.

"My god, Forge!" I heard Fred say. "It's a miniature AshLey!"

"No no, Gred," I heard George say. "Just because she's a prankster who sits by the fire and gets no sleep and gets good grades - holy crap, she is a miniature AshLey!"

"Must we do the same she did to us?" asked Fred. I suppose George nodded, because they came over to me.

"'Ello, Pillow," said George. "We have a proposal."

"I'm only twelve!" I wailed. "I don't know either of you well enough to marry you!"

"No, no, no, not that way. We'd like to pitch an idea to you," explained Fred.

"What am I now, the stock market? Go on."

"You see, the pranksters in Hogwarts must live on," began George.

"It's a tradition started by the Marauders, you see, to train the next prankster or pranksters of Hogwarts for two years, a process that is often carried out during the sixth and seventh year, or the fifth and sixth year, during the school year," explained Fred.

"Alas, we must ask, Willow LaFrance, do you commit to the idea of being taken under our wing?" asked George. "Will you accept the responsibilities of apprenticeship?"

"Hm…" I replied, cocking my head as if deep in thought. "Absolutely, Masters Fred and George."

They clapped, and according to them, carried out an 'apprenticeship ritual', according to me, poured a bucket of melted strawberry ice cream over my head and began running in circles around me, chanting unidentifiable words.

"So, who is this AshLey?" I asked them. They looked between themselves.

"_Master_ AshLey," they chimed. "Taught us all we know."

"Interesting," I said. "Now, could you like, use a cleaning charm or let me up to take a shower?"

"Nope," said George. "As part of the apprenticeship ritual, you must remain covered in ice cream the color of the master's hair for two weeks."

"So, erm, what would happen if you two had different colored hair?" I asked.

"We'd mix different flavors of ice cream together!" replied Fred.

"Dear god, can I go home over summer with you?" I asked.

"We'll ask Mum!" said George, honestly taking my question into thought. "She'd be delighted to have another mouth to stuff food into. We'd have to get permission from your parents, though."

"My parents are dead," I said solemnly.

"Then we'll have you over the summer for sure!" exclaimed Fred, running off, presumably to tell his mother.

"I'm sure this will probably be the best summer I'll have for some time," I said, grinning and looking forward to spending the summer _not_ locked in a tower.

**A/N : I hope you enjoyed the final chapter of Diary of a Disabled Girl. I might publish a oneshot describing her summer at The Burrow, but it doesn't fit here. So review, and look forward to the third fic in this series - Diary of a Discovering Girl.**


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